Doctor's Orders

by Deanna Ashford

  No matter how hard she tried to convince herself that everything would be fine, Helen couldn’t bring herself to look forward to the party she was due to attend tonight. She felt obliged to go as Sandra’s invitation had been tantamount to a command.

  Trapped in a corner by circumstance, Helen had little control over her own life at present. She felt like a puppet on a string being controlled by Sandra, Justin and Ben. It was either that or chance jeopardising her career.

  Helen was going to the annual party, organised for the staff of the West Wing, and to be honest she wasn’t even certain why Sandra wanted her to be there. Helen had deliberately kept her distance from Sandra and her cronies since the threatening incident in matron’s office. She was scared of being pulled into the sexual morass they inhabited, their only needs appearing to be a constant search for physical gratification. Helen was made even more fearful because she found something highly seductive about this strange way of life.

  The party was being held in the newly renovated ballroom, and the invitation stated erotic fancy dress. As Helen didn’t have anything to fit that category, Zara had arranged to lend her a costume from one of her movies – a sci-fi extravaganza called Starfest.

  It was a little over five days since Duncan had flown to Paris. He was back in England now, the problems all sorted out, and had already resumed filming. Helen had spoken to him on the phone a number of times and hoped to visit him soon, but she hadn’t told him about the videotape, or Sandra’s threats. Even if he knew, Duncan could do nothing to help Helen. Not only was the videotape capable of destroying her career, it could also harm Duncan. If the press got hold of it they would both most likely be compromised beyond endurance, and Duncan’s international fame would make the situation even worse.

  Helen hadn’t even spoken of Sandra’s threats to Colin. He had been acting a little oddly himself lately. Perhaps he was missing Zara, or was just troubled about all they had discovered. Whatever was wrong, he definitely wasn’t showing much enthusiasm for their investigations at present. But as things stood, maybe she should consider his lack of zeal a blessing in disguise.

  However, Colin had found out that the Arab gentleman had been operated on, and once again the surgery had been extensive facial reconstruction. Colin hadn’t been able to discover the surgeon’s identity, so at first they’d both presumed it to be Ralph. But Helen had phoned him in New York less than twenty-four hours later, and he mentioned a gala he’d attended at Carnegie Hall the night the operation had been carried out. Further investigation had confirmed his presence at the event, so Ralph was ruled out. Neither Helen nor Colin had any idea who the other surgeon might be.

  Still trying to muster some enthusiasm for the evening ahead, Helen put on her outfit, which was skimpy in the extreme. The side lacing proved difficult to manage and she struggled with it for a short time. The garment, if one could call it that, was fashioned out of a fabric which looked but didn’t feel like shiny black PVC. The front panel was so narrow and brief she had been forced to shave off the majority of her pubic hair. Level with her breasts it extended outwards into a ‘T’ shape which served just to cover her nipples. The equally narrow strip at the back was held to the front by elaborate lacing at the sides. To all intents and purposes she was nude, with just her nipples and the crack of her sex and buttocks covered. Yet the outfit looked good, amazingly sexy.

  A silver studded belt was slung low around her hips. Attached to that, just at the sides were narrow, floor length panels of the black, shiny fabric, which revealed the length of her shapely thighs and her high-heeled, tight-fitting boots. Helen wore far more make-up than usual, especially around her eyes, and when she looked in the mirror she barely recognised herself. She had to admit she had never felt more sexually alluring than she did in this scanty outfit.

  Thinking of Duncan for a moment, she looked up at the grille set high in the wall opposite her bed. She’d found Justin’s hidden video camera soon after she had spoken with Sandra, and put it straight in the refuse bin to be carted away by the dustmen the very next day. Then she had conducted a search of her apartment, ensuring there were no other nasty little hidden surprises. She was still thinking of this when she heard a faint rap on her door.

  ‘Colin!’ she exclaimed, surprised not only by his unexpected arrival, but also by his outfit. ‘Come inside,’ she said as they were being careful not to be seen too often together.

  ‘You look amazing,’ he gasped, looking her up and down, clearly turned on by her scanty costume. ‘No man could resist you.’

  ‘I hope that’s an exaggeration,’ she said with an awkward smile. ‘I don’t want to spend the entire evening fending them all off.’

  She looked at Colin, only dressed in tightly-cut, brown leather trousers and long boots, never having realised what an attractive man he was until now. He was well built and muscular, with slim hips and a firm flat belly. His outfit was in some ways similar to hers, laced at the sides like her dress, with only his groin and the inner parts of his legs covered.

  ‘Same movie,’ he told her, adjusting the metal studded leather bands around his wrists, which matched the leather collar decorating his neck. In his hand Colin held a brown leather head-dress which would mask most of his features and make him unrecognisable to the other guests. ‘I asked Zara to organise it for me, after you told me that Sandra wanted you to attend the party tonight.’

  ‘Were you invited as well?’ she asked, feeling a little self-conscious about the way his eyes kept straying back to her scantily covered body.

  ‘No. I’m gatecrashing,’ he told her. ‘With most of the guests masked, they’ll probably never realise that I’ve not been officially invited. Dressed like that, Helen, you’d make a monk feel horny. I can’t let you go in there alone; I intend to come too, and make sure you’ll be OK.’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ she insisted. ‘After all this is just a staff party.’ She looked down at her outfit. ‘I admit this is pretty outrageous, but I’m a big girl, I can look after myself.’

  ‘Don’t forget it’s being organised by Justin and Sandra,’ Colin said very seriously. ‘From what I hear last year’s party got pretty wild and totally out of hand – it turned into a full-blown orgy. That’s worrying enough, but I also don’t trust Sandra and her cronies. They must have some nefarious reason for wanting you to be there, Helen.’ He frowned. ‘They know damn well you’re on to them, and you can’t ignore that fact.’

  Of course Colin didn’t know about the videotape – she had told nobody about that – and she was certain that Sandra and Justin felt quite safe in the knowledge that they could ruin her in a moment if they chose to. ‘They also know that we don’t have one shred of definite proof. The only person we could harm with any certainty is Ben, and he isn’t aware of that yet.’

  ‘I’m still not happy to let you go alone,’ he insisted. ‘Duncan called me, not long after you told him Sandra had invited you. He asked me to watch your back.’

  ‘Did he?’ she said with a thoughtful frown.

  Gauging her thought correctly, Colin added, ‘It’s not as if he’s checking up on you or anything – he’d never do that. He just doesn’t trust Sandra, Justin or Ben.’

  ‘Who does?’ she said, lightly. ‘Just don’t get caught gatecrashing, and keep a low profile once you’re in.’

  ‘My own mother wouldn’t recognise me in this getup, and when I put on the head-dress –’ he grinned. ‘– I’m a different person altogether.’

  ‘I don’t think my mother would recognise me either,’ Helen admitted with a rueful smile.

  ‘By the way,’ Colin continued. ‘Did you make up your mind whether to contact Professor Fenton?’

  ‘I did. I left a message on his mobile yesterday evening,’ she confirmed. ‘All I said was that I was concerned about Ben Taylor’s behaviour, with regard to a drug trial he was carrying out without official authority from the hospital board. Peter Caxton is going to contact the manufacturers of Ampesoman, and
suggest they check up on the methods Ben is using. I wanted Max to be prepared, just in case things get ugly, although nothing can be totally proven until the trial is completed and Ben withholds the money from the patients concerned.’

  ‘So in other words, we’re off the hook?’

  ‘Peter still wants any documentary proof we can provide, just to back up the FDA’s investigations. He’s concerned that Ben might decide to give the patients fake identities so that they’ll be more difficult to trace.’

  ‘Frankly, I think we’d better let the experts deal with this now,’ Colin said cautiously. ‘Justin and Ben are not nice guys. If they discover you were involved in putting the finger on Ben –’

  ‘I know,’ she interrupted. ‘I’ll worry about that, if and when it happens, not before.’

  Colin did not appear altogether happy with her reply. ‘Maybe, now that Professor Fenton knows, he’ll get back here and make sure you are OK. If I was him, I’d be back in a flash.’

  ‘Then I’ll have to tell him that we are finished, which won’t be easy. Max can be very possessive at times.’

  ‘I’d prefer him to Ben or Justin any day,’ Colin pointed out.

  ‘I suppose you are right,’ Helen agreed, glancing at the clock. ‘It’s getting late, I should be leaving.’

  Colin slipped on his head-dress, and Helen examined him with thoughtful consideration. ‘Nobody will know who you are,’ she agreed. ‘It masks your features completely. All I have to do if I get worried is keep my eyes peeled for the masked stranger,’ she added teasingly.

  ‘And he’ll fly to your rescue,’ Colin responded jokingly, as he moved towards her front door.

  After Colin had departed, Helen walked into her bedroom to turn off the TV. She had left it on mute, and as she picked up the remote she glanced at the screen. She froze in surprise as she recognised the hook-nosed man whose picture had just flashed into view. He probably looked very different now that Ralph had performed such radical surgery on him, she thought, as she turned up the sound. His name was Carlos Alcazar, and he was a South American drug baron who had built up a massive distribution system in the United States. He was being hunted by the FBI, and was wanted for murder and various other unpleasant crimes. It was thought he had fled to Europe and all ports and airports were being watched.

  Helen had tried to persuade herself to believe Sandra’s explanation, but deep down she had always known it wasn’t true. Now she had discovered the true identity of Mr X, and it appeared that Ben and his accomplices had been involved in committing a criminal act by aiding and abetting a wanted man.

  Chapter Eleven

  HELEN’S THOUGHTS WERE still full of her staggering discovery as she made her way to the party. If Ben, Ralph and the others were branded criminals her career might be safe after all. Once they were arrested, all she had to do was locate the videotape of her and Duncan, and destroy it immediately.

  The newly renovated ballroom looked wonderful, and Helen felt as if she had stepped back into a place where past, present and future intertwined. The room was illuminated by flickering candles and magnificent glass chandeliers, while swathes of black silk covered the windows, blocking out any remnants of evening light. Helen, like all those present, was masked, making it difficult to figure out anyone’s true identity. The costumes were a strange mixture from Baroque to the foreseeable future, all highly erotic, some more blatantly sexual than others.

  Two young women walked past Helen, touching each other intimately and totally oblivious to the presence of the other guests. They both wore facsimiles of a nurse’s uniform, but their breasts were uncovered, and their skirts so short that it was easy to see they wore nothing underneath.

  Helen saw both ends of the spectrum here, from highly elaborate bejewelled garments to brief costumes consisting of chains and leather straps which lifted and exposed genitalia in a variety of different ways. The air was heavy with the odour of incense, and a heady atmosphere of promiscuity permeated the entire ballroom, oozing over the partygoers, filling their minds with wild lustful thoughts, and the need to fulfil every bizarre fantasy their minds could dream up. Helen found this strange aura highly addictive and she was obliged to constantly remind herself that she must not allow her senses to be seduced by its mesmerising spell.

  Out of all the people present, there was only one Helen recognised immediately – Sandra. She walked towards Helen, modestly draped in a red silk cape, a matching red mask covering her eyes. A faint breeze brushed the silk, making it shimmer as she moved. Helen paused, waiting for her to approach.

  ‘Very unusual,’ Sandra conceded, looking Helen up and down, aware that the eyes of every man and most of the women in the room were lustfully fastened on the beautiful doctor. Helen’s outfit was stunning and she looked spectacularly sexy.

  ‘Thank you,’ Helen replied, as Sandra tossed back her cape to reveal an outfit much like the one Justin and Ben had dressed Helen in that fateful evening in Sandra’s bedroom. Sandra’s breasts were much fuller than Helen’s, and were forced into the tight garment, so that they bulged through the leather straps. Her nipples swelled obscenely through the confining metal rings, making them appear even larger. Her shaved pussy was covered by a thin strip of leather, also held on by straps, which cut into Sandra’s wide fleshy hips.

  Helen was filled with a complex variety of emotions as she stared at Sandra; a weird mixture of anger, abhorrence and lust. She was tempted to grab hold of those exposed titties and twist them hard until Sandra screamed with painful bliss. Keeping a strong control over herself, she did nothing but glance down at the naked man who crouched on his hands and knees at Sandra’s side.

  He wore a dog collar around his neck, and Sandra held the leash attached to it in her hand. The man’s rather unimpressive genitals hung down between his scrawny legs, and he looked a little too well-fed and portly to be a proper slave. Helen couldn’t see his face, as his entire head was covered by a tight-fitting leather mask, with holes near his nose for him to breathe, and a zip fastener covering his mouth. It was presently closed, but Helen presumed it would be opened when his mistress wanted pleasuring.

  ‘Where exactly did you get that outfit?’ Sandra asked.

  ‘It’s from one of Zara’s movies,’ Helen replied, trying to prevent herself from staring with compelling fascination at the man crouched by Sandra’s side.

  He moved, shuffling about, probably because the wooden floor was uncomfortably hard on his unprotected knees. ‘Behave yourself,’ Sandra snapped, hitting him with the end of the leash. ‘Or you’ll be punished.’ She hit him again, and this time the leash left a small red mark which merged tastefully with the others that already marred his back and buttocks.

  ‘This is certainly a party with a difference,’ Helen conceded, as a man strode determinedly towards them. Judging by his build, and the way he walked, it was Ben, encased from head to foot in black rubber. There were press-studded panels at pertinent spots in the garment, which could be ripped away to expose nipples, buttocks, and sexual organs if the need arose.

  ‘Enjoying yourself, ladies?’ he asked. Only Ben’s lips were visible, and they twisted in amusement as he noticed the aggressive stances of both women, even though they were smiling politely at each other.

  ‘Immensely,’ Helen replied sarcastically. Ben lifted the front of his mask to expose a face already pink and shiny with sweat. Helen thought the rubber garment must be incredibly hot on a warm summer evening such as this. ‘Who wouldn’t enjoy themselves at such a party?’ she added in the same tone, although she did find the event amazingly fascinating. She had never seen so many uninhibited, and sexually adventurous people in one place, and now she was here she intended to stay and witness the orgy she knew would eventually occur. ‘Now if you’ll both excuse me . . .’

  Helen strolled over to the refreshment table and helped herself to a tall glass of chilled white wine. She surveyed the ballroom thoughtfully as she sipped her drink, hoping to catch sight of Colin,
but there was no sign of him yet.

  Helen didn’t notice the short, skinny man sidling towards her, who wore a bizarre mixture of straps and chains which did nothing but emphasise his lack of a decent physique. He didn’t look even remotely sexy, just a little ridiculous. ‘Hello, my beauty,’ he said.

  Helen didn’t bother to reply, she just looked derisively down at his paltry sized cock and walked away from him. She intended to move anyway, because she had seen a number of guests gravitating towards the far end of the ballroom and she wondered where they were going. She found that they were aiming for a number of smaller rooms leading off the main concourse, all of which had been decorated with different themes.

  One was a bedroom, and there were already four naked people writhing on the bed, all clearly enjoying themselves, while others watched. The second contained a number of pieces of medical equipment which could be put to good use in a variety of ways. The centrepiece was one of the new birthing chairs they had recently imported from the States. A plump young woman reclined naked in the chair, legs spread wide, while other guests took turns in stimulating her. Helen didn’t find that sufficiently arousing to encourage her to stay.

  The third room was even more dimly lit, and set up as a medieval torture chamber, with some surprisingly bizarre looking instruments, including a rack. A tall, slimly built, masked man was bent across a padded post, hands and feet chained, buttocks raised in the air, while a pretty dark-haired nurse, dressed as a dominatrix, beat him with a small leather-stranded whip.

  Curiously, Helen wondered who the man was as he gave a moan of pleasure, which made the simmering heat in her quim increase.

  ‘Does watching this turn you on as much as it does me?’ Justin whispered in her ear as he slid his arm around her waist and pressed his belly hard against her buttocks.

  ‘It’s interesting to me, that’s all,’ she replied coolly, making no effort to pull away from Justin as she watched the young woman drop her whip and walk round to face her victim.